


Son of a Preacher Man

by Liminal_Space_LLC



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M, Making Out, No Underage Sex, Not quite explicit but definitely not safe for work, Songfic, Summer Romance, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 01:45:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16777150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liminal_Space_LLC/pseuds/Liminal_Space_LLC
Summary: Billy P was a preacher's son, and when his daddy would visit he'd come along ;)





	Son of a Preacher Man

The August noon was thick and golden as honey. Derek watched a shoestring of a snake slither through the dry grass into the shade of the trees. He wished he could follow it. Climb into one of those high pines and fall into a hazy summer sleep.

“Derek, look smart,” his father whispered, “They’re here.”

Derek tugged his limp collar upright. A white family—husband, wife, and teenaged son—was emerging from behind the bend of the drive.

His father waved and stepped forward to clasp hands with the husband. “Minister, welcome to our home. Mrs. Poindexter, it is a pleasure to meet you at last. Please, come in and get out of the heat.”

Inside the house, Derek’s mother was waiting. She delightedly took Mrs. Poindexter’s gift of blueberry preserves, and Derek smiled politely as she introduced him to the minister and his wife.

The minister shook his hand with a firm grip. “We’re so happy to meet you, Derek. We’ve heard a lot of great things about you, especially from your teachers. Billy here’s gonna be a senior this year, too.”

Derek glanced at the Poindexters’ son—he was staring fixedly out the window, but his eyes flicked up briefly to meet Derek’s gaze. For a moment, Derek was caught in his stare like a pickerel on the line. The boy’s eyes shone in the light like new pennies. Then Billy looked away, and Derek remembered himself. “Well, Minister, that’s so kind of them to say. We have really wonderful teachers here. I think Billy will like it just fine.”

The minister and his wife smiled widely. Derek followed them into the kitchen with great relief. It seemed he’d made a good impression.

His mother had pulled out all the stops for lunch. It was delicious. Try as he might, though, Derek could not focus on the conversation for more than a few minutes at a time. Billy Poindexter was sitting across the table

He was gangly and lean and looked as though he was already too tall for his tie. His gaze was fierce. Like the pressure of water behind a great dam. Every time their eyes met, Derek forgot for a second how to breathe.

Derek’s parents and Poindexters hardly needed any contribution from their sons. They talked about the parish, the summer harvests, and the town hall renovations, but finally the conversation came back around to them.

“Derek,” asked Mrs. Poindexter, “do you play any sports?”

“A bit of baseball, a bit of hockey. Half decent with a football.”

Her eyes lit up. “Why, that’s wonderful! Billy here loves hockey, and we were so worried he wouldn’t have anyone to play with.”

Derek glanced at Billy. His eyes were glued to his slice of cake.

Derek’s mother replied brightly, “Well, if he ever needs to practice, he should come over and skate on our little pond with Derek.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Nurse,” Billy said politely. “You’re very kind.”

“Derek, you should show Billy the pond, if he’s going to be skating here,” his mother suggested.

“Of course.” He stood up so suddenly, he sent his fork flying behind him. He scrambled after it. When he looked up to apologize, all the adults were giving him affectionate looks, but Billy was simply gazing at him with those toffee brown eyes.

He swallowed and set the fork down on the table. He managed to say, “It’s thisaway.” He walked out onto the back porch, not looking to see if they boy was following, but he heard the backdoor creak open and closed behind him.

He glanced back and nearly fell off the porch. Billy was close enough behind him that Derek could see the freckles peppering his cheeks. Derek had to grab at the rails to stay upright.

For the first time since he arrived, Billy was smiling, a crooked, laughing thing. He put a hand by Derek’s shoulder. “You alright there?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“Things fall a lot around you, huh?” His eyes sparkled wickedly.

Derek stepped away onto the top step. “Come on. Pond’s this way.”

He led Billy through the corn. In the height of August, it was now bushy and green with golden-red plumes on top.

He laughed a little to himself.

“What?” asked Billy.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

Derek glanced back with a smirk. “You’re like a corn.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Red on top.”

Billy burst into sudden laughter. “You’re an asshole.” He shoved at Derek’s back. Derek stumbled down the path, out of the corn into the shade of the wood.

“I thought you were a preacher’s son. A fine upstanding boy. Where did you learn words like that?”

“Well, you know,” Billy said as he stepped forward to walk level with Derek, “Being good isn’t always easy.” Billy grinned.

Derek caught his breath. The look in those eyes was too much. He focused on the path.

Billy’s shoulder kept brushing against him. He couldn’t stop hearing the words _being good isn’t always easy_ playing over and over in his head. He could feel another heat in his chest, spreading slowly through him like hot chocolate.

He tried to ignore his guest the rest of the way. The afternoon was too quiet, though. He could hear Billy’s soft breathing singing insistently in his ear, begging him to listen.

By the time they got to the pond, his mind was blank. All he could think to say was, “This is it.”

“It’s nice.”

Derek nodded. While Billy was surveying the pond, Derek got to look at him properly. His cheeks were flushed with the heat. His shirt was plastered down with sweat. As he put his hands on his hips, the lean muscle around his shoulder blades flexed.

Red hair shifted at the corner of Derek’s vision. He raised his eyes. Billy was staring at him with that fierce gaze, looking like he might burst into flames.

After a long, quiet moment, Billy licked his lips. “Looks like a nice spot to skate.”

Derek tore his eyes away from Billy’s mouth. He looked out over the water. “Yeah. Lots of room to, um, do drills. And suchlike.”

“Yeah.”

The pond was gloriously dark and cool-looking, like a fall night drained down from the sky. All Derek wanted was to do was be in that water. He glanced at Billy. “Want to go for a swim?”

Billy’s eyes went wide. He made a little bobbling nod.

Derek stripped down to his boxers. Before he could lose his nerve, he sprinted into the pond until he was chest deep.

The water was glorious against his sweltering skin. He looked back up at Billy, standing shirtless with his socks in his hands, staring at him.

“Scared of the water, Poindexter?”

Billy recovered himself and snorted, pulling off his pants. “Not on your life.”

He stomped into the water, deliberately splashing Derek.

Derek laughed. As soon as Billy was in reach, he whipped his hands through the water to splash him back. Billy responded with a vengeful wave. Derek squeezed his eyes closed. He flapped his arms wildly, splashing and being splashed in equal measure. The air turned into a froth. His hands stung from slapping the surface and his ears dulled with water, but he could hear Billy’s deep, infectious laughter.

Then he felt his hand brush smooth, solid skin. Suddenly the water was still. The only sound was the low buzz of summer.

He opened his eyes to find Billy’s pale face, sprinkled with brown freckles, inches away from his. Billy’s mouth was hung slightly open. Derek looked down at his hand. It was rested against Billy’s ribs, brown against white. He could feel the heave of Billy’s breaths against his palm.

He drifted his hand up, skimming his fingertips against the moon pale skin. His fingers brushed the hardened pink nub on Billy’s chest. Derek felt him shiver. He trailed his hand up until his fingers curled just against the taut curve of Billy’s neck.

He met the gaze of those golden-brown eyes, so intent they sent a shiver down his spine.

He felt Billy swallow against his fingers. Billy whispered, “Do you want—?”

Derek pulled him in. They fell into each other like corn stalks in a high wind. Derek reached desperately, yearning to touch all those smooth planes of skin, and Billy was kissing him as if the only air left in the world was in his mouth. Strong arms twisted around Derek’s body, begging to be somehow closer. There was no sense but the pull and shove and tug of ravenous hunger.

Finally, they pulled apart to breathe. Their shoulders heaved. Derek grinned—he felt, he felt like if only he climbed a tall pine, he could find it in him to fly. He wanted this again, but more and more and more.

Billy grinned back. He tightened his grip around Derek’s waist to pull him back in, but Derek put a hand on his chest. He’d caught sight of the fruit-heavy apple tree over Billy’s shoulder. “Wait, come here.”

Billy seemed confused, but he followed the tug on his wrist.

Derek led him into the shade of the apple tree. He found the large, smooth rock he used to jump from as a child. He laid Billy back against it. He pressed his hands to those broad shoulders until Billy was spread flat against the warm stone.

Derek surveyed the strange and lovely creature he’d found in his pond. His wet hair was darkened to auburn. His lips were strawberry pink from kissing. Leading down from his belly button was a fine trail of golden-red hair that ended down in the water. In the dappled light under the apple tree, it looked like Derek had captured the spirit of a pale, fiery dawn.

Billy stared back. His gaze was heavy on Derek’s skin. They stood in awed silence until Billy whined softly, “Please.” His pale knees spread slightly in the water, and every fanciful thought in Derek’s head was burned away by a sudden blaze of _want._

He knelt and kissed those bright lips. Now, against the solid stone, their movements were luxuriant. Derek pressed gently, savoring the softness of lips and tongue. Large, fine-fingered hands traced delicious patterns down his spine. He trembled.

Just below the water, a firm eager pressure goaded him on. Derek kissed and touched, thrilling at the sounds Billy made and the way the pressure in the water would jump against his thigh when Billy wanted more.

When Derek could no longer resist, he pulled back his hips. His drew his fingers down Billy’s chest. Down the path of orange hair. Billy whimpered into his ear, “yes.”

Then, suddenly, Derek heard his mother’s voice in the distance. “Derek! Billy needs to go home!”

Derek bit his lip. Billy growled, “Shit.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, Derek’s hand still resting on the soft damp skin of Billy’s stomach.

Billy broke the silence. “Tonight?”

“My parents might, um, suspect.”

Billy sat up and stared at Derek with that fierce gaze. “Tomorrow.”

“Okay, tomorrow.” He giggled at the sudden pleasure in Billy’s eyes. He leaned forward to kiss him again.

They could not stop. Even as they climbed out of the pond and pulled on their clothes. Every time they broke apart, after a minute one of them could no longer stand not to be touching, and they would draw together again. They only stopped when they were within sight of the house.

As the Poindexters walked away down the road, Billy turned back and gave him that wicked smile. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Derek said breathlessly. He settled down on the front steps and closed his eyes. He felt the touch of the sun against his face and imagined it was the warmth of strong, freckled skin. _Tomorrow._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you want to read more of my things, I am also on [tumblr](https://nerdmetamorphosis.tumblr.com).


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